stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

No souls were alike, Dorian claimed. There was a but... there was always a but. Part of her had been bracing for it the moment he claimed she had an anomaly. The same moment that frown found her features. Sure enough, his thoughtful fingers traced over the colourful hues that stood out upon the paper, it was almost lovingly the way he caressed that drawing. As if he truly cherished all his collection of auras he had drawn. Dorian seemed kind she decided. It wasn't just the nice way he stroked that paper though either. It was then that weird thought that she might like to be pet invaded her thoughts. Fucking hell kitty brain. Sometimes it felt like it had only one brain cell that could only focus on one thing at a time. Fortunately, she was pretty damn good at shutting that all the way down these days.

Yet Harley's blazing purple eyes could only stare at his long fingers, clearly only trying to interpret what he was looking at with such close perusal. She could feel that impatience he mentioned she had, rose its head but she wasn't exactly ready for what he had to say... That it was almost like she didn't wish to be happy. Well, that sure as hell felt like a clean right hook to the gut that left her feeling dazed. That frown intensified at his revelation as she was quick to admit that it was a little self-loathey for her. She was a damn delight, if you asked her and not.... Some other people she clearly offended at some point.

The fae king shook his head softly in disagreement. No, it wasn't self-loathing. It was indecision that he saw. No one said shit like that to her. She fought the need to recoil from it and instead openly stared at him like he had grown five heads and they were all speaking different languages. Deserving of happiness, huh? She wished she could have laughed it off with conviction. But more importantly, was it true? It was then that Harley regained herself swiftly enough to claim that some people were just dealt a shitty hand. She hated how he just smiled knowingly back at her and made a sound of amusement that might have sounded condescending if it was from anyone else less Dorian-like. She listened to his father's recited words of wisdom. It sounded like something Matteo would say too, she could even envision his accented voice now followed closely with a classic Mon Cherie at the end. Dorian mentioned that he had once been angry too.

What? The king of sunshine and rainbows... angry? He seemed too delicate to be angry. Such a contrast to what stood before her. " It's hard to imagine you angry. I am going to have to admit."

There was clearly a story there, one she doubted she would get to hear now or well.. ever. Harley listened to Dorian share a glimpse into himself. But he claimed he just chose happiness. Like happiness was something someone could just do like a switch. Oh? Her gaze hardened a little, pretty sure that's not how it was for everyone.. but damn good for him.

"So what was your epiphany then?" Those words were no longer drenched in sarcasm even though she doubted that he possessed some magical formula. Of course, she was pissed off. She was certain most would be or worse. Dejected. To her, at least, anger had become her catalyst and her armour. It was useful as hell and if she didn't have it.. she wasn't quite sure of her next line of defence against those chompy killjoys.

It was after that, when Dorian offered her to view that painting that she practically pounced on that opportunity. Oh, hell yes!

Harley leapt off her perch in a movement that alluded to her not being human at all. She left her coffee behind as she slid right up next to Dorian's side like they were friends. That picture was awesome. The raven-haired spitfire offered that compliment as her eyes truly took it all in, unsure where to look first. He was really genuinely good at drawing. She could see it down to the way he captured her in a way she didn't know someone could. Even down to that little amused smirk. Harley declared that he made her look smoking hot! Oh, she did not regret the way his cheeks flamed! She liked him so much more just for that response.

Of course, she had to call him out on it if only to ensure that his flushed face remained that way for a little longer. It was too good of a reaction. How she wanted to continue to poke at him and yet.... "Oh Dorian.... I am glad you found my little shop today." She laughed easily, shaking her head as it really took some willpower to not be her relentless self when it was just too damn easy. Did she mention tempting? But she was certain if that got him red she could pull out several other shades. A teasing knowing flashed within her gemstone eyes, claiming it was the caffeine from the tea that must have made him so flushed. How quick he was to agree to it! She could hardly keep that subtle smirk from her lips. There was no way she was buying it, nor did he seem to either. The detailing of the sensual curves of her boobs, her slim waist or how her clothing rested upon her figure attested to just how much was noticed. She didn't even know either. Regardless, this did wonders for her morale. So, how many people could say a king thought she was hot? Oh sorry... 'pleasing to the eye'.

How at that moment they both knew that it certainly wasn't the caffeine that brought his cheeks that pinkish hue. This somehow was satisfying enough. Mercifully, she questioned those colours, the opportunity was one he seized so quickly, embracing his comfort zone and into the land of colours that he seemed content to explain in detail. Including that gold that seemed to dance through the array of beautiful, vivid colours that made up her clearly very shiny soul.

It was then that she inquired why he didn't draw his own. That look of surprise was apparent, those all too honest words surprising the raven-haired woman once more. The sigh upon his own lips alluded to some kind of deeper sadness that he couldn't interpret it like he could with others. That sucked. Maybe one day, or perhaps he was not meant to... People rarely saw themselves perfectly clearly. Sometimes others noticed things that were impossible to notice yourself.

"I guess that isn't surprising. Sometimes... we need someone else to see what we cannot. Or maybe it just means you are just too damn shiny to see it properly then. Come on, if someone like me can have gold in theirs.. yours is probably a shimmery rainbow or something." Harley suggested, incredibly helpful might she add.

The conversation continued before another intrusive thought bloomed. If he had used powers like that to colour his drawing and could clearly see it. Did that mean that some of her soul was within that paper? Or was it merely a copy? The near horror seemed to cross his features before turning into something amused. It was wild how he transformed into something wholly like Matteo so fluidly. A chuckle rumbled through his chest and she noted all the ways it sounded different from his father...

But the moment of resemblances seemed to die out quickly when he seemed to get hung up on what she called him. D-man. It appeared to confuse him. It was actually kind of endearing as it was humourous. For someone that could see her soul, he didn't seem to quite understand her mannerisms. Was that a reference to himself? He inquired out loud. "Sure is. It's actually a good thing, believe it or not." Most of the time... She didn't bother to elaborate on why that was, dipping and lifting her head in a content nod. Considering those names that could turn.. Creatively crude when deserved.... Hey was that not the spice of life?

However, even with that impish reply that he offered her about trapping souls..... she didn't quite seem ready to let it go. At least her mind didn't. He didn't say he couldn't and the way he alluded, certainly made him seem like he could.

Her eyes near bugged as he admitted that he could ensnare people in his art if he wanted... Okay, that was slightly horrifying. Okay, more than slightly. It was completely horrifying. In lesser hands, that power would be flat-out dangerous. Hell, it still was. How many people could just go missing without a trace!? He claimed he was not inclined to use those abilities. Well.. that was something...

"That is probably..... for the better." Harley added as she tucked a raven-hued lock behind her ear.

"Although there are a few people I wouldn't mind using those abilities on... if I am being honest." You know the look before you leap? Those words certainly didn't until after she realized. That was probably where a filter would have been great.

"...uhh metaphorically of course..." A simple shrug before she amended.

Pretty sure she lied right there. But casual conversations about murder or trapping someone against their will were typically frowned upon. Even if those people were murderous psychopaths? Debatable. Even that wasn't quite a murder.. just an indefinite time out... was that how it worked? It seemed a lot kinder than what they did and planned to do...

But that offer to let her keep the drawing seemed to fill her with a genuine surprise. There was no way she was going to say no to that. The woman fully intended to hang up that painting in her apartment. He even signed it too. Which meant he seemed to take some level of pride in it. Even if it was just some random woman he just met. She eyed that drawing once more, with a certain level of awe that he would simply give this to her. This was certainly something she would cherish. There was no doubt about that.

She placed it safely away to the side, tucked between the sheets of her own sketchbook. Even with visible proof she was certain that no one would believe even with physical evidence.

Dorian's voice trickled out. Did she want to know something? This was typically a trap and yet when did she shy away from anything? That and this instantly drew her attention. She bit into that bait as she turned to him once more, gaze meeting his own with ease. That word Prego brought up again only... he explained what he actually meant, including not bringing up pregnancy to woman. She couldn't help the amused snort. "Now that makes way more sense. Buuut yeah, it's probably safer not to bring up the pregnancy things with women, to be safe. I did once, it did not go great because she was not actually pregnant. Hey, can you blame me? I can't tattoo on people who are pregnant... so she should have been happy I was looking out for her." She said she couldn't tattoo someone who was pregnant and to come back after her kid was born. It was one of the few times she was truly speechless when that woman gave her an earful, especially when Harley couldn't help that she laughed at first. That definitely did not make matters better... Do you know how long a one-star on Google lasts? Longer than a woman's gestation period, that was for sure. Fortunately, being called rude in her industry wasn't exactly a death sentence. A singular shitty tattoo will follow you forever though. Which was exactly why she could afford to be picky when she took on as a client. One bad tattoo was pretty much a death sentence. So, she would take the angry pregnant look-alike's online public griping over doing bad work... She shook her head at the memory in silent laughter.

"Besides.. Look at me. My bulges are in all the right places, thank you very much. But not if I keep eating these pastries." A sound of amusement left her lips as she offered a confident playful definitive nod.

Dorian finished the last of his tea. But that was when she remembered. That offer for him to do something bolder was promptly spoken. He seemed to forget what they had discussed earlier, especially with how cautious he became. What did he think she was going to offer him? "Relax, I am not going to do anything too crazy." Well.. she supposed that depended on someone's definition of 'crazy'.

"Give me a sec."

She pivoted on the spot and strode right toward the tall cabinets up against the far wall, swinging open those doors with gusto. There was nothing like broadening someone's horizons. She knew she had some undyed leather strips still somewhere. She rummaged through a few bins before she pulled out a square and returned back to Dorian without a word of explanation a few moments later.

"I told you I was going to show you my tools of the trade. But I decided, I like you... So I am going to do you one better." She left her hand over the leather she placed down on the desk. Peering down at the king who was still sitting.

"I am going to let you try out a new medium. If you want to that is. The leather is close enough to tattooing on skin. Sort of..." She brought out her wireless tattoo machine, paper towel, and ink, setting it up as she would for a client.

"But this baby.. It nearly cost me a kidney. But you know how it is. I don't think you should cheap out on good art supplies, you just notice the difference. I buy all premium inks and just upgraded to this bad boy about a year and a half ago. The top model." She left out the fact that she totally named it. If it was that expensive and she liked it, of course, she was going to name it. But she kept that one to herself. "I present to you..... my tattoo machine." She explained, proudly showing it off by raising it slightly so he could see. In honesty, it hardly looked all that impressive. But it was, she could list all its specs from the top of her head. It wasn't the only one she used but it was the perfect option for what she had in mind. It was also her favourite and far easier to use even with all its fancy features. Wireless offered so much more freedom, especially when it had all the new tech in such a small but effective tool.

"Here, let me show you."

Harley didn't get into the different voltages of the rotary or even touch upon shading or too much technical talk. That he didn't need to know. She wasn't trying to put the guy to sleep. He just needed enough to know how to work the thing to tattoo the leather.

The buzzing sound filled the air as the machine came to life in her hand, using the ink she earlier prepared as she easily drew some roses with the thorns bordering the piece of leather. Her well-practised lines were smooth, clean and fine-lined. She skillfully wiped away the left-over splattering ink with some paper towel she gathered with her free hand to not stain the leather so she could see what she was doing. She moved as she had a million times before but on real flesh instead.

Harley contently prattled on just enough as she went, he just needed to know enough so he could doodle safely.

"Soo... Still feeling bold? You could give it a whirl if you want" She gave him her best inviting up-to-no-good smirk, raising her shaped brows in question. Pretty sure he didn't get that offer every day. "If you don't want to or are scared I won't blame you. It's a big leap from pencils and paintbrushes that's for sure." Also pretty sure she was breaking another rule by handing over a super stabby device to the king of Italy. Pretty sure it could always be worse, which seemed to be her motto these days.

But even then... she was pretty sure Risque and Darcy also couldn't reach her in prison... so that too was a silver lining she hadn't considered before. But she had a date to go on first.... Then she would consider her own incarceration attempts. This reminded her... she had a question for the expert on souls.... At least it couldn't hurt to ask. Right? Turning off the machine, eyeing her doodles as she did, she offered it to Dorian not stabby end first.

Harley Westward